I must confess that I’ve been blessed with a very romantic husband. He has brought me flowers home just because. Surprised me with gorgeous pieces of jewelry just because. Showed up at my job to take me out to lunch just because.

However the most romantic thing that sticks out in my mind was when I was seven months pregnant with our youngest daughter. This pregnancy had been the total opposite of my previous pregnancy. I was plagued with horrendous morning sickness all day, every day for the first five months of my pregnancy. Once the never-ending morning sickness miraculously vanished overnight I began to have premature contractions during my sixth month. At the time my doctor felt is was necessary for me to go on short-term disability because my job as a nurse had me constantly on my feet which she felt played a role in my condition. Sitting at home all day alone was no joy. I was going insane being totally isolated.

One night I tearfully went on and on about how miserable I was being cooped up in the house with nothing to do, no one to talk to. My husband sat there intently listening to me whine and cry and did not offer one word of comfort. I’m thinking to myself okay dummy aren’t you going to say something? After all I am carrying the child you just had to have. Of course I went to bed angry and had attitude with him for days.

A week later I’m in my usual spot on the sofa watching daytime television and the phone rings. It’s my hubby telling me to be dressed and ready to leave the house by six-thirty. I didn’t ask question I just got my fat butt off the sofa and waddled upstairs to find something nice to put on. I was getting out of solitary confinement!

When my husband came home he had the biggest grin on his face. You know the cat that swallowed the canary kind. “You ready?” he asked as he ushered me to the front door. When he opened the door there at the curb sat a white limo with the driver smiling from ear to ear holding the door open for me to get in. As I awkwardly slid inside, a beautiful bouquet of red roses awaited my arrival.

My hubby had made dinner reservations at an exclusive seafood (my favorite) restaurant in Olde City Philadelphia. To say I was surprised by his actions would be an understatement. I was totally floored. I felt so bad I had misinterpreted his silence as his not caring or as being annoyed with my constant whining and crying. When in actuality, in his silence, he was pondering what he could do to bring me a measure of happiness. My hubby’s ability to listen to me and understand my need to get out into the world for just a short period of time was the most romantic thing he has ever done for me. And you know boyfriend got major cool points for doing it in style! LOL

Friendship is one of the most intimate relationships in which the human spirit requires to thrive. Whether the friendship is healthy or toxic, it is a connection that we as humans desire at some point in our lives. I can only speak for myself when I say that I treasure the few close friendships I’ve developed over the years. I can’t imagine not being able to pick up the phone to share the latest events going on in my life or just shooting the breeze with my girls. Nor can I imagine one of my girls not calling me to mull over a concern.

Although I have a strong connection with my sister-friends, it cannot compare to the friendship I have with my husband – the love of my life. For over twenty-three years he has been my biggest supporter, my rock, my best friend and my lover. Now don’t get me wrong. Our relationship did not start out as such. Getting married young and throwing babies into the mix made things at times a little challenging. However, my man and I hung in there and made it work. As the children got older, becoming more independent, it allowed us some very much needed “us time.” During our quiet time together we’d take long walks holding hands chattering about every and anything, cuddle on the sofa watching our favorite weekly shows or a DVD, shopping, or taking a last minute weekend getaway.

Honestly, it never really hit me that we were the best of friends until one day several years ago we were in our bedroom sitting on the bed talking. I can’t remember the details of the conversation. All I recall is that he said something that had us rolling on the bed hysterical with laughter. I can distinctly remember feeling at that moment our interaction felt more like a friendship and not a husband-wife moment. I’m happy to admit that those moments are shared quite frequently in our marriage. So yes, my lover is my best friend.

With the millions she received after divorcing her faithless tycoon husband, Bernadine Brown saved the historic town of Henry Adams, Kansas, from financial ruin and found loving homes for five needy children. Now there are other “projects” crying out for rescue.

If ever a town institution needed rescuing, it’s the beloved Dog and Cow diner. Once it was Henry Adams’s social center—or gossip central!—now it’s in danger of becoming duct-tape central. But there are other distractions pulling Bernadine from the task at hand: a plethora of romantic entanglements, including her own with a disturbingly attractive Malachi July; a bitter young boy newly arrived in town with his widowed father; and a fugitive on the run with a six-hundred-pound pet pig that’s wanted for murder (the pig, that is). And when Bernadine’s philandering, troublemaking ex-husband rolls into town looking for a second chance, life in Henry Adams gets very interesting indeed.

Like you I am an avid reader of romance. Not just any romance – African American romance. Because of my love for this genre I toyed with my inner most desire to become a romance author. Although I was terrified to explore this desire I stepped out on faith and put my pen to my pad. I must tell you that this was one of my most rewarding experiences. Hugs and kisses to the many readers who took a chance on supporting a new author. I do not have the words to express how each and every e-mail I receive encourages my heart to want to give you my very best.

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